


Intensity

by acefusti138



Series: Two Halves of Whole [2]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Anal Sex, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Ball-gag, Blindfolds, Bondage, Buzzfeed Unsolved References, Dildos, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Dry Orgasm, Eddie is an Auto-Mechanic!!, Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, Gags, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Married Couple, Married Sex, Modern AU, One Shot, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Reddie, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex, Safeword Use, Safewords, Sensory Deprivation, Subspace, Sybian usage, both characters are switches, in this house we support richie loving and caring for eddie with his whole ass heart, let my baby have his interest in cars be fufilled, no actual sex but eddie gets fucked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:06:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acefusti138/pseuds/acefusti138
Summary: Richie had never seen Eddie this far gone; hell, he doubted he’d seen even pornstars fall this far into their subspace. It was still his responsibility to take care of Eddie, even if he had no fucking clue what he was doing this far out in the water.Eddie was gonna kill him in the morning if he remembered this, though.





	Intensity

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14509536) by [kitschyrichie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitschyrichie/pseuds/kitschyrichie). 



> i'm alive but at what cost. i could not stop thinkin abt this shit so here ya go???

It had been storming when they had started.

After a long day of work, Eddie had taken a much-needed shower to rid himself of the sweat and oily grime that had collected on him in the late summer heat at his auto-mechanic shop. He’d worked as a nurse for _years_ , but the constant intensity and raw emotion proved too grinding on his nerves for it to be healthy, and with Richie gaining a sudden promotion to a new potential permanent member of the _SNL_ team, it gave Eddie the perfect opportunity to do something he had been interested in since he was a child; cars. He _loved_ his new occupation; coming home every night with a pleased smile on his face and either a new story or an exciting new challenge to ramble and bounce possible solutions off of Richie about, the twenty-five-year-old was absolutely _flourishing_. It made Richie happy to see; he loved his husband of almost three years with everything his lanky self-had.

If Eddie was happy, Richie, nine times out of ten, was happy too. And currently, Eddie was not happy. Storms were one of the few things that he did not, in fact, enjoy. Too loud and overall a little overwhelming after years of correlating them with his equally stormy childhood, Richie had offered to help soothe his husband’s discomfort.

“You wanna do a scene _tonight_?” Eddie asked, drying his hair off with a towel and draping the towel loosely over his tanned shoulder. Richie shrugged from where he sat at the kitchen island, swallowing down the bite of cereal he had taken before Eddie spoke. Placing his spoon back in the milk-filled bowl, he gave Eddie a cheeky grin.

“That is what I just said, yeah,” He said, “Storm isn’t gonna let up and you look a little anxious,” Eddie gave him a look at that, but didn’t argue. “Why not relax a little? We haven’t done one in a while; it’d be a nice way to spend the night in.”

 _Richie has a point_ , Eddie’s mind argued, _We haven’t done one in almost two weeks_. “Fuck it,” Eddie said bluntly, throwing caution to the wind, “Let’s do it then.”

\---

That was how they’d ended up in their current dilemma.

Richie, in all honesty, hadn’t really prepared for them to take the scene as far as they had. He’d just hoped to tie his poor little sub up— a much-anticipated act after being dommed ruthlessly by his little switch the previous two times they had done a scene. But Eddie had just been such a damn _tease_ , even without doing anything specifically against Richie’s orders.

His tanned skin had just looked far too sinful as it teasingly arched and moved as Eddie had sucked Richie off. The devilish mewls he’d made around Richie’s cock was going kill Richie at the rate it was going.

“ _Fuck_ , baby,” Richie hissed low in his throat, “You’re gonna end me at this rate.” He caught Eddie’s swollen lips peek up in a smirk for a split second before his hazel doe-eyes peeked up at Richie innocently and blinked as if he had no idea he was doing it.

 _Little shit_.

“If you’re gonna be a tease, baby,” Richie said slowly, his voice leveling out, “I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson on how to be a good boy.”

Eddie blinked in _actual_ confusion, his fingers drumming twice against Richie’s thigh as his yellow light to figure out what Richie had in mind. Richie nodded, helping Eddie pull away from his cock and humming softly. “Lightning,” He said, pausing their scene completely.

That had Eddie’s attention, and the brown-haired man sat back on his heels, pulling his bound hands out from behind his back infront of him. “Whaddya mean?” He asked, wiping some of the drool and precum that had dribbled out off of his chin with the back of his hand.

Richie moved to let the smaller man into his lap, smiling when Eddie loosely draped his still-bound hands around Richie’s neck and rested against him. “I wanna try the sybian on you. You had your way with me on it, I think you should have a turn, don’tcha think?” Richie explained, seeing Eddie’s face redden at the mention of their first usage of the toy. Cute.

“I-I… I guess. How intense are we talking?” Eddie said slowly, mulling it over in his head.

“Pretty far,” Richie hummed, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie’s forehead, “You know I love that ball gag on your pretty little lips, and maybe the good blindfold. The noise canceling headphones on you, too. No— definitely. Have you not know where I am until I’m touching you. It’d teach you a thing or two about patience, and that when I’m in control, _I’m_ in control.”

Eddie’s breath hitched, and a heavy spark of heat burned in his lower abdomen, his cock throbbing hard at the idea. He licked his lips, swallowing thickly and trying to take a deep breath to collect himself before he spoke again.

“Okay.”

\---

Richie had lost track of what time it was almost three hours into their endeavor, somewhere after Eddie’s fourth orgasm.

He couldn’t help it.

Eddie’s toned frame looked unusually tiny on the deep black sybian, weak noises spilling uncontrollably from his bruised lips and tears soaking through the solid-black blindfold.

He’d started out fine, but after his second orgasm almost an hour in, he truly seemed to understand the position he was in. Arms firmly bound behind him at the wrists and again at the elbow, he was  unable to move, as his feet were just out of reach from being able to touch the floor. He was left completely at the mercy of the sybian, and Richie was loving it. Especially when Eddie had started crying at his third orgasm, his cock an angry, abused red against his navel and cum splattered up to his chest as his tiny frame was rocked by the machine. Each time he came, Richie would come back over to him from his perch on the couch just across from the sight, touching him and making the man sob in surprise at the sudden touch. He would coddle Eddie through the overstimulation, gently stroking his cheek or his quivering abdomen before he would completely pull away again and increase the setting of the sybian from where it had been reduced.

It had Eddie reduced to an openly sobbing mess, loud mewls and moans slipping past him at every moment. It was truly a sight to behold, and Richie wasn’t at all ashamed to admit that by the time Eddie came dry with an agonized wail, he came untouched.

It was that same orgasm that seemed to have his poor husband truly hitting his threshold.

Richie hadn’t fully realized it at first, going back over and repeating his actions just as he’d done every other time before, feeling Eddie nuzzle against his palm and smiling warmly. “Let’s get one of these off, hm?” He cooed, pulling out one of the earbuds out of Eddie’s ear and watching as Eddie gasped and tried desperately to fall forward against his husband, shaking and sobbing helplessly into his chest.“Shh, shh, you’re alright, baby. You can do it, you’ve done so well for me, baby. If you can do one more I’ll give you a treat, hm? That sound good?”

When Eddie nodded, Richie grinned. “That’s my good baby boy. I’m gonna put the earbud back in and watch. You can do it,” Before Eddie could make any noise of protest, the earbud was back in and Richie was gone, leaving the smaller male to whimper brokenly, back arching harshly as the machine began to fuck into him much harder than before.  _Maybe_ Richie had turned it up another two dials instead of one, but he couldn’t help it! Seeing Eddie just fall apart was the most addicting thing he had seen. Not to mention Eddie hadn’t been _nearly_ as kind to him during his own experience with the toy. No, Eddie had been a _ruthless_ little fucker, having taped a vibrator to his cock with the machine going for over an hour with _no_ contact.

It was fair.

But for Eddie, it was like his mind had melted into a hazy cloud of oozing white. All he could feel was the unrelenting silicone fucking into him, hitting his prostate dead-on with every thrust and leaving his mind unable to think of _anything_. Richie was his only grounding force, and with him gone his mind just dissolved. The soft white of his mind just seemed to pulse with each thrust, and his second dry orgasm of the night hit him by surprise, a weak gasp slipping past him as the white behind the solid darkness of the blindfold threatened to swallow him whole. His body writhed, and on instinct alone he tried to sob out for Richie, a broken, garbled moan only coming out instead.

When he felt Richie come up against him, every nerve ending in his body absolutely alight with over sensitive focus, he wailed weakly, his breathing hitching and wild as Richie cupped his cheek. _Richie_ , his mind screamed, the word alone proving to be too much stimulation for its current state and sending him crashing over the edge of his release once more with a hiccuping sob. He tried again to sob out Richie’s name, arms pressing feverishly against the unrelenting rope that bound them together with a needy cry. His body pitched forward against the older man, and he wailed aloud as the dildo inside of him fucked into him far deeper than it had before, body arching and seizing up with sensation.

The fact that it had all happened within not even fifteen seconds of being touched had a red flag going up in Richie’s head, and he paused. “Baby, hey, you’re okay,” Richie said, not getting any response and remembering that the earbuds effectively prevented Eddie from hearing him. He carefully pulled them out of Eddie’s ears, gently cupping both of his cheeks and frowning when Eddie hitched harshly at the new introduction of sound and instinctively wailed again, body bucking and head tossing back. “Hey, hey, baby, breathe for me,” Richie instructed, a little worried Eddie was going to give himself in asthma attack at this rate. Eddie just gasped shallowly, body slumping forward weakly against Richie’s shoulder once more and hips weakly rutting down against the sybian. Now actively concerned, Richie turned down the setting of the toy as low as it would go, needing Eddie to calm himself down first before they continued.

When Eddie didn’t even seem to notice, the second red flag flashed in Richie’s mind. “Baby, I’m gonna take the gag off,” He said, carefully reaching behind Eddie’s head to undo the buckled leather holding the toy in place. As soon as it was out of Eddie’s mouth, Eddie hiccuped, writhing weakly and sobbing into Richie’s shoulder, mouth still gaping open as if they toy was there. Trying to get Eddie sitting back up proved fruitless before the younger of the two would just weakly fall forward against him, boneless, gasping and sobbing out between heavy gulps of air.

Red flag number three burned in Richie’s mind and he carefully held Eddie still, stroking a hand through Eddie’s hair to soothe him. “Baby, what’s your color?” He asked softly once he deemed Eddie calm enough to respond.

Eddie had no clue what Richie was talking about. His mind searched urgently through its vast cloud of empty fog to find nothing on the subject, and he whimpered, his body jerking with a harsh sob as he thought he’d failed an order. “Wh-- Wha’-- Wha’ color?” He hiccuped, his voice a hoarse croak that barely made it out above a whispered.

Richie had to stop himself from stiffening in concern. “Yes, baby, your color. What color are you at right now?” He asked softly, feeling Eddie hiccup again in his arms.

“D-don’-- Don’ k-know--” Eddie began to grow frantic again, body thrashing about when Richie turned off the sybian. “N-No--! ‘ll be good, p-please--!” He croaked, breaths coming out in hurried gasps similar to that of starting to hyperventilate.

“Baby, what’s our safeword? I gotta know,” Richie asked firmly, feeling Eddie slump completely again him with an agonized wail that had every warning sign in the book going off at once. “Eds, do you know the safeword?” He whispered, holding the smaller male close to him to try to keep him from hurting himself trying to thrash about.

“N-no,” Eddie finally sobbed after what seemed to be an eternity, his body shaking like a leaf and breathing shallow.

“Lightning,” Richie blurted in an instant, mind immediately far from the scene and mind focused on getting Eddie back to where he should be mentally.

That proved easier said than done. Eddie was still crying and his small form was shaking so hard that Richie was hesitant to pull away for even a moment to pull him off of the toy. “Eds, baby, I need you back here with me. We’re done with the scene, okay? You understand? I’m gonna get you off of this but you gotta be able to sit up so I can get you off, okay?” He said, Eddie not making any notion of understanding him and instead just trying to burrow against his husband, hiccuping weakly into his shoulder.

“W-wanna go home, ‘Chee,” He slurred out instead, Richie unable to stop himself from stiffening at that.

“Eds, sweetie, we _are_ home. We didn’t leave, baby,” Richie whispered, making quick work of undoing the intricate knots holding Eddie’s arms together and having to hold them in place to keep Eddie from immediately moving them. He really couldn’t be bothered to do the mental math of how long they had been bound together in total since they’d started, but he knew it had been long enough that Eddie could seriously hurt his arms if he moved them too quickly.

“I gotta get you up, baby. I’m gonna move your arms to where they need to be, but you gotta keep them there, okay? Can you do that for me?’” Richie asked, Eddie nodding and crying out when Richie very carefully began to move his arms forward, thrashing again and wailing that it hurt. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, Eds. I’m not gonna move them any more. You’re alright. You gotta calm down, baby, you’re gonna hurt yourself. I’m right here, I’m not gonna let you get hurt. Just breath and hold on to me, just like this. We’re almost done. Promise.” Fact of the matter was, Eddie’s actions were beyond concerning. Sure, Richie knew about subspaces. He hit his own rather often, but never to this degree. He always knew where he was and his color and safeword. Yeah, he would cry, but never have full out crying fits that bordered-on hyperventilation. The same was true for Eddie; he’d never been _this_ bad, and they’d been doing this for almost as long as they had been married.

He was worried.

Getting Eddie off of the sybian proved to be the biggest challenge. The man had strong thighs, and even if he wasn’t tall enough to touch the floor, Eddie was much stronger than Richie. He was clinging onto the sybian just as tightly as he was to Richie, and getting him off while also trying to keep him upright was a very challenging task. Not to mention that as soon as Eddie _was_ off of the toy, he wailed _loudly_ , trying desperately to cling to Richie and hide from the agonizing pain that burned lightning-hot up his backside. “ _Hurts!_ ” The man screamed, breath hitching violently on the harsh cry. Richie could only check for bleeding and then carefully scoop Eddie up in his arms, quickly making his way to the master bathroom and dimming the lights as low as they could go before sitting down on the edge of the jacuzzi tub with Eddie still in his arms.

Turning on the bath, he could finally turn his full attention to his still-crying husband. He held Eddie close then, cradling the younger man’s head in his shoulder and using his free hand to hold the small of Eddie’s back, pressing a kiss at his temple and murmuring soothing little nothings into his ear until the sobs became weak hiccups instead.

The curly-haired comedian stayed quiet, mostly trying to collect his _own_ thoughts as Eddie calmed down. He was still shaking, still crying very weakly and almost completely limp within Richie’s hold save the death grip on his shoulders. Sure, there had been no way of knowing just how hard Eddie would have hit his subspace, but Richie still felt _guilty_. It was a sour ball of shame that had settled in his gut and kept threatening to choke him by crawling up his throat every time Eddie would whimper. “Eds, I’m sorry,” He said softly, burying his nose into the sweat-dampened chestnut brown hair of his husband, pressing his lips against Eddie’s forehead and wincing when Eddie just sniffled brokenly. It took Richie leaning over to turn the bath off for Eddie to finally speak again, his voice a shuddering little croak of its usual firm, intense self.

“B-blindfol’... N-nee’ ih off..” The weak slur of Eddie’s words had Richie scrambling to undo the knot holding the blindfold in place. And once it was off Richie could truly see just how bad it was.

Eddie’s eyes, usually bright and fiery with the spark of intensity that was his personality, were now glassy and clouded, swollen red from tears and pupils blown wide from the lack of light. It didn’t even _look_ like the same Eddie that Richie knew and loved dearly. Honestly, it scared him a little bit, and Richie bit his lip, feeling stubborn tears burn at the corners of his eyes before he hugged Eddie close as he could.

“I’m _so_ sorry.” He whispered again.

\---

Things went considerably better after the bath. Richie had been smart enough to have food and water ready for Eddie beforehand, but it was in the fridge, as Eddie would have had a fit if he knew a fly or bug could have been on his food. Getting the smaller man wrapped up in a fluffy towel and robe, still cradled close and held as if he were a precious, billion-dollar piece of artwork, was easy.

Putting Eddie down on their downy bed of soft pillows and warm blankets was not.

Every cell of Richie’s body practically screamed at him not to leave Eddie alone for even a moment, but making sure Eddie was hydrated after all his crying and had some food in him was crucial. They’d both found out the hard way that after an intense night, waking up on an empty stomach and low hydration was like a hangover, but much, _much_ worse.

Forced between a rock and a hard place, Richie left Eddie on the bed to pull on a pair of boxers and get the water and fruit plate. It didn’t even take a minute, but that was all Eddie’s mind needed to try and collapse on itself. Richie came back in the room to Eddie shaking again, breathing shallow and face red. “ _Shit_ ,” Richie swore, placing the food down on the edge of the bed and quickly pulling his husband close, carding his long fingers through Eddie’s hair and whispering soothing reassurances. “I’m right here, Eds, I’m right here. You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere for the rest of the night, I swear. You’re alright,” He soothed, trying to prevent a panic-induced asthma attack before it could happen.

It was a close call.

The rest of the night-- if it could even be considered that. It was nearly three a.m. when Richie had gone into the kitchen-- was spent with Eddie burrowed close to Richie in a cocoon of blankets and pillows. Richie had turned on the TV and connected it to youtube, letting all of Buzzfeed Unsolved play in the background so Eddie had something to focus on if he needed and some desperately needed white noise for his own mind. He’d fed Eddie bites of all the fruit until it was gone, and every time the younger of the pair made even the tiniest noise of pain or general discomfort, Richie was on him in an instant, cuddling him close and layering loving kisses across his face. Over the soft dimples of his cheeks, on the smattering of freckles on his button nose and across his temple and forehead: anything to calm and reassure Eddie that he was _there_ and would provide Eddie with as much as he possibly could to help calm him. It was all Richie _could_ do.

He had no idea what else to do. It took until halfway through the second season of true crime for Eddie to start speaking full sentences again, and even then he just looked so damn exhausted and wrung out that even _thinking_ seemed to be too much. Richie felt awful; he’d be having a serious discussion with Eddie about warning signs and how to _handle_ this, along with how to _prevent_ it from happening again, because there was no way in hell Eddie was going to be able to be left alone for the next twenty-four hours at the rate they were going, let alone go to work the following Monday. That was, if Eddie even _remembered_ this in the morning. He looked so out of it, Richie doubted he would remember anything after being put on the sybian itself.

He was right.

When they finally had managed to doze off, Eddie in Richie’s lap and held close with Richie stuck at so many awkward angles that his arms had gone numb, come morning, it was like speaking to a different person. “‘Chee…” Eddie whined tiredly, nosing at Richie’s neck and rubbing his eyes, trying not to wince at how damp and swollen they felt underneath his sore hands and fingers, “Wha’ time izzit…?” He mumbled, feeling Richie stir and groan tiredly underneath him.

“Dunno...” Richie groused back, his voice a low, sleepy murmur that had a smile tugging on Eddie’s cheeks despite his exhaustion and the pain burning hot and heavy in his backside.

“Mm… Dunno wha’ all we did tha’ coulda had you willing ta sleep with me in your lap like this, but ‘m gonna have ta say no to doin’ it again… ‘m not even standing an my legs feel like jelly… My back is killing me…” Richie just laughed weakly at that, sleep-numbed hands clumsily moving to pull Eddie close and press a warm, albeit sleepy, kiss to his cheek.

“I agree with ya there my sweet Spaghetti-Man… I don’t think I can handle what all happened last night again, either,” He said, Eddie frowning a little at that.

“Wait, what happened? Rich?” He sat up a little, whining again in pain at the movement and just burrowing his head back into Richie’s shoulder as Richie kissed his nose.

“Let’s jus’ say ’m gonna be a vanilla bitch for the next month,” Richie hummed tiredly. “You hit your space hard and I don’ think I can handle seeing you that far gone more than once in my lifetime.”

Eddie went quiet at that, letting the information sink in for a few minutes while Richie drowsily played with his sleep-mussed hair, melting under the gentle, loving touch from his husband’s long fingers and finally giving a soft sigh. “I love you,” He said, his right hand lifting to reach for Richie’s free hand, smiling weakly when Richie immediately grasped it and pressed a loving kiss against their locked fingers.

“I love you too, Spaghetti-Head.”

“ _Richie_ \--!”

**Author's Note:**

> idk the ending seemed weak but im a sucker for fluffy ending and two married guys being happy and loving each other unconditionally


End file.
